


Welcome to the Shitty Restaurant

by goldensprite



Category: One Piece
Genre: Fluff, Food, Gratuitous French?, Grumpy Sanji, Nakamaship, Oblivious crewmates, Sanji/Zoro if you squint, Strawhats at a swanky restaurant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 16:47:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6528133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldensprite/pseuds/goldensprite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone's having a great time eating amazing food at an awesome restaurant...</p>
<p>... except for Sanji, who's moping in the corner.</p>
<p>(and Zoro, who's lost)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome to the Shitty Restaurant

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, to find old fic you wrote several years ago... The silly mistakes! The mixed metaphors!
> 
> Oy.
> 
> The concept of this still makes me smile, though :)

Everything about the restaurant was graceful, polished, and smooth. From the immaculate marble floor-tiles to the gently swaying crystals dangling from the chandeliers, the elegant curves of the high-backed, velvet-padded chairs to the gentle music flowing from the piano. 

Even the movement in the restaurant was elegant: the dance of forks and knives, glasses and spoons; the discreet, almost invisible movements of the waiters – everything was gentle and calm.

Almost everything.

The young blond man in the black suit slouched in his chair. His long legs under the table were restless and fidgety, and he flicked erratically at his lighter, an unlit cigarette drooping from his lips. He had barely gotten the lighter out of his pocket when the Assistant Head Chef had insinuated himself over, warbling in his syrupy voice that the restaurant was strictly a non-smoking establishment, so would the monsieur mind kindly going outside to light up? Sanji grimaced, biting down hard on the end of his cigarette.

That shitty bastard…

Assistant Head Chef Raclette wore an elegant grey pinstriped suit and black dress shoes, and his sleek black hair looked expensively cut. And, Sanji mused sourly, for an Assistant Head Chef he certainly spent very little time in the kitchen. Instead, he danced from table to table like an excited cockerel, refilling glasses, extolling the virtues of the cuisine and the prowess of the chefs, and flirting shamelessly with all the women in sight… Would madame care to try the spectacular bouillabaisse that he had prepared that day…? It really was exceptional, if he said so himself… And had he mentioned the chocolate soufflé? He had prepared it personally, and it was light as a breeze, a delicate caress of a dessert, particularly suited for a delicate flower such as madame…

Sanji spat his cigarette onto the table and took a sip from his glass. It was good wine, he grudgingly admitted, although not the finest in all of the Grand Line, as that asshole had proclaimed it to be. He sighed and looked over at the rest of the crew, seated at a large table on the far side of the room.

Luffy was gorging himself as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks, cramming his mouth full (and, Sanji knew, with those stretchable cheeks, a Luffy mouthful was several mouthfuls) and yet somehow still managing to speak while he chewed (if he chewed at all), announcing that the roast beef was so good he could just die (much to the delight of Assistant Head Shithead, who kept bringing over new dishes for Luffy to inhale), and so was the venison, and the chicken, and the pork…

Usopp and Chopper too, were squealing in delight at every new thing the bastard brought over, as if they’d never seen anything edible before. As Sanji watched, the three of them shared a joke, Raclette resting a hand on each of their shoulders as they laughed together. He ruffled the fur on the back of Chopper’s neck, and moved on to… 

Nami-san and Robin-chan. He was fawning over them, so sickeningly it made Sanji’s stomach lurch. He drained his glass as he watched Assistant Head Shithead complain that they would make him go crazy, trying to decide which of them was more beautiful… And Nami-san was actually flirting back…

It was just because she didn’t want to pay the full price, Sanji told himself. But the others… 

He sloshed more wine into his glass. He hadn’t even wanted to come here… 

They'd been waiting for the Log to set when Luffy had come roaring back to the ship, apparently having heard of an excellent restaurant on the island. Then Robin said that she had read a very good review of the place, which had gotten Usopp and Chopper excited too. Only Sanji and Zoro had actually needed to go into the town – Sanji needed to get some supplies, and Zoro had had some sword-related thing to do – but Luffy was so eager to go and eat right away that they'd decided to meet up at the restaurant later.

Sanji spent an unhappy couple of hours dealing with the unfriendly townsfolk, haggling over inferior produce at inflated prices. Since they were such a long way away from the next island, the bastards were happily getting away with daylight robbery, and their smug attitudes had grated on Sanji’s nerves. When he had finally arrived at the restaurant, he had found the crew (minus that stupid marimo-head, who was probably lost) gorging themselves fit to burst. And then that shitty Assistant Head Chef had pranced over, prattling about their specialties and exceptional wines and how they were the best restaurant on the Grand Line, and watching the crew, all noise and laughter and rowdiness, Sanji had suddenly realised how tired he felt, and had chosen to sit alone at a small table near a window, nursing a medicinal bottle of wine.

‘Yo.’  


A chair was scraped back harshly, making him jump. That shitty swordsman was sitting down opposite him. Sanji almost growled. Just what he needed…  


The rest of the crew, even Luffy, had made some attempt at dressing to suit the exclusive restaurant. Admittedly, all Luffy had done was put a jacket on, but at least he had tried. Zoro, on the other hand, hadn’t even bothered. His white shirt looked grubby and battered, and his hair was a mess - was that mud on his face?  


‘Where the hell have you been, bastard? Don’t tell me you got lost, you can see this place from all over the town.’  


Zoro shrugged. ‘All the roads look the same here. Anyway, why are you alone? Where are the others?’  


Sanji jerked his head in the direction of the crew, not quite managing to keep the scowl off his face. Zoro eyes followed, and he raised an eyebrow slightly. Sanji tensed, waiting for a sarcastic comment, scanning the man’s appearance, looking for some reason to start a fight…

Assistant Head Shithead materialised at Zoro’s side, his eyes sparkling and grin wide, and Sanji sank deeper into his chair. 

‘Good evening, monsieur! Welcome to our fine establishment! Monsieur won’t regret choosing us, I assure you! We are the finest restaurant on the Grand Line! Please accept a glass of our finest wine, on the house for such a distinguished guest as monsieur. Has monsieur decided on what to order?’

Sanji noted through his sulkily narrowed eyes (though it wasn't like he was looking) that as Raclette handed Zoro the glass, the Assistant Head Shithead’s fingers lingered briefly, subtly stroking the swordsman’s hand. Zoro seemed not to notice, downing the wine in a single gulp before the chef had finished speaking.

‘Sake. And some food.’

Sanji rolled his eyes. God, but he was a neanderthal.

‘Ah, yes...' Assistant Head Shithead nudged the menu toward Zoro. 'If monsieur would look over our specialties, monsieur will find we have many magnificent dishes. Although monsieur really can’t go wrong, anything monsieur orders here will be the most spectacular meal monsieur has ever had!’ He laughed his twittering laugh and Sanji clenched his jaw.

‘Just bring me anything. I don’t care what it is.’

Raclette’s polished veneer seemed to crack somewhat at this. ‘M-monsieur? Won’t monsieur reconsider? Our food is spectac-’

‘I’m not really interested in things like that,’ Zoro interrupted. ‘I eat spectacular food every day.’ He yawned widely, not bothering to cover his mouth; the shitty chef stared at him, starting to back away. ‘I’m hungry, just bring me something quickly. And don’t forget the sake!’ he called, as Raclette scurried off.

‘Well, for now we-’ He broke off, catching the look on Sanji’s face. ‘What?’

‘Y-You…’ Sanji stuttered, feeling his cheeks begin to burn slightly. ‘You… you jackass! You can’t order like that in a fancy restaurant! Don’t you have any manners at all?’

Zoro shrugged. ‘Whatever,’ he sighed, leaning back in his chair. ‘I’ll be glad to be out of this fussy town…’

Sanji swirled his wine around, hiding his smile behind the glass and feeling more relaxed than he had all day.

‘Oi, what’s that you’re drinking?’


End file.
